He washed the feet and stroked the hair, And for the once forgot his prayer. He gave him wine that the Pope had sent For some great day of the Sacrament; And looking up, behold, at his side Was bending also the Crucified! He had come at last to the lonesome place, And standing there with a courteous grace, Threw sainted light on the friar’s face. And then the Master said: “My son, My children on my errands run; And when you flung the psalter by And hurried to a brother’s cry, You turned at last your rusty key, And left the door ajar for Me.” Supplication Give me heart-touch with all that live, And strength to speak my word; But if that is denied me, give The strength to live unheard. [THE END] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES 1. Silently corrected typographical errors. 2. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed. 3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lincoln & other poems, by Edwin Markham